Chapter 144
In the dim amber light of his study, Rafael Vexley sat perfectly still, his gaze locked on the security tablet before him. The bluish glow of the screen cast faint shadows across his chiseled features, sharpening the hard line of his jaw as his steel-gray eyes narrowed. There they were—Sarai and Bianca Monroe—lounging against a fire-red convertible at his gate as though they owned the place.
The late afternoon sun dipped low, gilding their silhouettes in liquid gold. To anyone else, they might’ve looked like guests arriving fashionably late for a summer party. But Rafael knew better. Uninvited. Unannounced. And judging by their smug expressions, entirely unbothered by either.
Sarai, ever the dramatic one, tugged a bit of her sleek black hair that was wound into a polished bun behind her ear, her laughter carrying faintly through the tablet’s speaker—a sound that managed to be both beautiful and irritating. Bianca stood beside her, more poised but no less bold, her sharp features animated as she spoke, her high ponytail catching the sunlight each time she moved.
Their style was impeccable—predictably so. Sarai’s emerald-green dress clung to her like it had been stitched directly onto her skin, shimmering with every motion, while Bianca’s tailored coat and fitted trousers gave her the commanding air of someone used to getting her way. Together, they looked like trouble dressed in luxury—two women who knew exactly how to make an entrance, even if the gates of Vexley Manor stood between them and their target.
Rafael’s jaw tightened, a storm of suspicion brewing in his chest. These weren’t the faces of women bearing important news; they were predators in couture, toying with their prey. Yet, desperation clawed at him like a wild animal. Eliana was out there somewhere—pregnant with his child, vanished without a trace. If these serpents knew anything, he had to extract it, no matter the cost. He set the tablet down with a thud and wheeled his chair toward the door, his mind racing. “Maid!” he called out, his voice sharp and commanding, echoing through the opulent halls.
The timid maid appeared moments later, gliding into the room with practiced grace. Her crisp uniform was spotless—pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight—just like every attendant under the Vexley roof was expected to be. She kept her gaze respectfully lowered, hands clasped neatly in front of her.
“Yes, Mr. Vexley?” she asked softly, her voice only a whisper, as though the walls themselves might disapprove of her speaking too loud in his presence.
“Tell security to let them in,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. “Escort them to the living room. I’ll meet them there p>
She answered hastily, “Yes, Sir,” and scurried away, leaving Rafael to maneuver his wheelchair down the corridor. The estate’s marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers, but the grandeur felt hollow, a cage of his own making. His heart pounded with a mix of fury and fragile hope as he positioned himself in the vast living room, surrounded by antique vases and towering bookshelves that whispered of old secrets. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and faint lavender from the fresh flowers on the mantel—arrangements Eliana had once admired during her time here as his caregiver.
Outside, at the gate, one of the burly security guards’ phone buzzed. He answered with a gruff “Yes?” then listened intently. His expression shifted from wary to compliant. “Understood. Opening the gates now.” He hung up and turned to the sisters, who had paused their chatter, their eyes glinting with anticipation. “You’re cleared. Drive straight to the main entrance p>
Sarai’s lips curved into a sly smile as she slid into the driver’s seat, her manicured nails tapping the steering wheel. “See? Told you he’d let us in. The man’s a curious one—it’s written all over that brooding face of his, even if he’s as blind as a bat p>
Bianca climbed into the passenger side, her laughter bubbling up like champagne. “Oh, this is going to be delicious. Remember, stick to the script. Tears for you, comfort from me. And that smirk? Save it for when he’s not ’looking’.” She air-quoted the word, her voice dripping with mockery. “Make sure he doesn’t hear the faking in your voice. This has to go perfectly.” The engine purred to life, and the convertible glided through the opening gates, tires crunching over the gravel driveway lined with manicured hedges and blooming roses. The estate loomed ahead like a Gothic fortress, its stone facade shining beautifully in the fading light.
As they pulled up to the grand entrance, a butler opened the door with practiced formality. “Ladies, Mr. Vexley is expecting you in the living room. This way, please p>
The sisters exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance before stepping inside, their heels clicking against the marble like ticking clocks counting down to disaster. They followed the butler through the foyer, past priceless artworks that screamed wealth, until they reached the living room. There sat Rafael in his wheelchair, his tall frame imposing even in feigned vulnerability, his dark wavy hair slightly tousled from his earlier pacing, his crisp designer suit a armor against the world. His piercing grey eyes, hidden behind the pretense of cloudiness, fixed on them with calculated blindness.
The moment their gazes met his direction, the transformation was instantaneous. Sarai’s face crumpled into a mask of sorrow, her sharp green eyes welling with crocodile tears that shimmered like diamonds. She let out a dramatic sob, clutching at Bianca’s arm as if for dear life. Bianca, ever the supportive elder, wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulders, her expression one of solemn concern—but a smirk tugged at the corners of her full lips, hidden from Rafael’s ’sightless’ view. Sarai’s cries were punctuated by subtle smiles, her lips twitching upward between sniffles, as if the performance amused her immensely. Unknowingly to her, Rafael could see it all.
Rafael played along, his voice steady but laced with underlying tension. “Sarai, Bianca. To what do I owe this unexpected visit? You seem… distraught p>
Sarai buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with exaggerated sobs. “Oh, Rafael… it’s… it’s just awful. I… I don’t even know where to start.” Her voice broke artfully, the words muffled but clear enough to pierce the air.
Bianca patted her back gently, her tone soothing yet laced with false empathy. “There, there, sis. Take a deep breath. Mr. Vexley, we’re so sorry to barge in like this, but it’s an emergency. Sarai’s been beside herself all day p>
Rafael leaned forward slightly in his wheelchair, his hands gripping the armrests to steady the rage simmering beneath his calm facade. “An emergency? About what? Speak plainly p>
Sarai lifted her head, her black mascara smudged just enough to look authentic for any staff that might be watching, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. She dabbed at her tears with a silk handkerchief pulled from her purse. “Have… have you heard from Eliana lately? Seen her? Anything at all p>
Rafael’s heart skipped a beat, a chill running down his spine. Something was off—their energy shifted too perfectly, like actors hitting their marks. He sensed the scheme, the undercurrent of malice, but couldn’t pinpoint it yet. “No,” he replied evenly, his voice betraying none of the turmoil inside. “I haven’t. In fact, I’ve been searching for her myself. Why do you ask p>
At that, Sarai’s sobs intensified, her body wracking with feigned grief as she collapsed onto a nearby velvet armchair, her elegant dress pooling around her like spilled ink. “Oh God, it’s true then… she’s… she’s gone missing, hasn’t she? A mutual friend—someone Eliana and I both know—called me this morning. They said… they said Eliana was in a terrible car accident. On Elm and Broad, right on the main road. It happened six days ago p>
Bianca’s smirk deepened, her sharp features twisting in quiet satisfaction as she stood beside her sister, one hand stroking Sarai’s back. Her eyes gleamed with triumph, the kind that comes from a plan unfolding flawlessly. “It’s devastating, Mr. Vexley. We rushed over as soon as we heard, hoping you might have more details p>
To be continued p>